


the name of the game

by ernnsts



Series: the bitch of living [4]
Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 20:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17608085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ernnsts/pseuds/ernnsts
Summary: ernst goes to his first high school party and hanschen does his best to make it a decent experience. the only real winner is melchior, per usual.





	the name of the game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [d_v_whelan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_v_whelan/gifts).



Ernst’s fidgeting multiplied ten times the closer they got to the destination, and even Hanschen’s very considerate reassurances every few minutes didn’t stop him from intensely tugging at a loose thread that he had only just discovered on his sweater minutes ago, and which was now causing a fairly noticeable snag in his sleeve. In all three and a half years of high school, he had still never been to a proper party, and Hanschen decided on a whim earlier in the week that it was high time to change that, and that Max von Trenk’s party at the end of the first semester was the perfect party for it.

Ernst, however, was extremely skeptical. Max was the student body president, and from what he’d heard, his parties were always the biggest, second only to the ones Melchior had once in a blue moon. 

“I just don’t know if this is really going to be my kind of thing, Hanschen,” he mumbled, staring with wide eyes at his boyfriend to avoid looking at the house as Hanschen pulled to a stop on the curb, the bass from the pop music coming from inside rumbling intensely enough to make him feel like someone had taken him by the shoulders and given him a good shake. 

Hanschen turned off the ignition, then shifted in his seat to look at Ernst directly. He had one of those indecipherable smiles that he usually had when Ernst was overthinking something—and Ernst could never tell if he was trying to be reassuring, or if he just thought it was all very funny. This time at least, it seemed to be the former, and Hanschen reached over to interlock their fingers, very helpfully stopping Ernst from unravelling his sweater completely.

“I promise that it won’t be as terrible as you’re anticipating, Ernst. You worry too much.” Evidently Ernst didn’t look convinced enough, because he continued, “...and if you really don’t have any fun, then we’ll leave. We’ll find something more fun to do somewhere else.” Ernst blushed, and Hanschen laughed. 

“Promise?”

“Of course.” Hanschen gave his hand a squeeze and leaned in for a brief but affectionate kiss, coaxing the smallest hint of a reassured smile out of him.

It wasn’t that Ernst didn’t appreciate what Hanschen was doing—trying to make him feel included in his social life, making sure he knew that he had the option to come with him to whatever parties he went to—but, man, he had never been more certain of anything than he was that he was not going to have fun here. He didn’t drink, for one, unless you count communion wine and the time his mom let him have a glass of champagne last Christmas. Secondly, he didn’t know how to dance, or if he was even supposed to. On top of those things, he was certain that he wouldn’t know anyone there well enough to do anything other than cling helplessly to Hanschen’s side all night. Melchior, maybe, but he said that he was bringing Wendla, and third wheeling those two sounded more unbearable to him than being a dead weight on his boyfriend’s ability to socialize. 

Too caught up in his vivid mental picture of how the night was sure to go, Ernst hadn’t even realized that Hanschen had gotten out of the car until he was already on the opposite side and opened the door for him, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.

“Oh! Oh. Thank you,” he stammered, taking Hanschen’s hand and getting out of the car. He barely had time to make a face in response to his amused grin before Hanschen was pulling him against his side and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, walking with him to the front door and into the belly of the beast. Not that Ernst was nervous about going in or anything, of course.

That was one of the things Ernst always admired about Hanschen, actually; his absolute confidence in everything he did, and the lack of consideration for what anyone else would think about it. It almost made Ernst feel confident, too, to know that someone as popular as Hanschen didn’t care if everyone in the room saw them together, even though his own reputation was… nonexistent, really. 

The two of them together didn’t really look like a couple, all things considered. They barely looked like they were from the same planet, even, and it was a stretch to assume that they would talk to each other at all. Hanschen always looked like a fashion model straight off the cover of GQ or something, all decked out in designer brands and shoes that probably cost more than his car. 

The closest Ernst ever came to anything like that was the time Georg told him that he could be the poster boy for Baby Gap. He was all sweaters and collared shirts bought by his mom, and he looked like he was ready for church at any second (which, in all fairness, he was). It wasn’t exactly party attire—or what Ernst imagined party attire to be, based on the numerous early 2000’s teen movies he could quote word for word at this point.

Anyways, the point was that Hanschen was completely unbothered by the interested stares they received upon entering, and he reacted to the numerous students calling out his name to get his attention with nothing but simple nods of acknowledgement, not stopping to chat until he found the quietest—or at least, the least crowded—place to stand. _God, he’s so cool,_ Ernst thought, then, _God, he’s so considerate._

They came to a stop at the far end of the living room, and Hanschen leaned against the wall. Ernst settled against his shoulder, letting out a triumphant sigh as if he had just completed a marathon just by walking in. He even ventured to take out his phone, nudging Hanschen to get his attention for a blurry selfie taken by a trembling hand. “I’m going to send this to the guys,” he explained, barely loud enough to be heard over the music. Hanschen put on one of his Instagram model smiles, and Ernst threw up a peace sign. 

Without even looking to see how the picture turned out, he opened the Discord group chat that included Moritz, Otto, Georg, and Melchior—if anyone asked them why Hanschen wasn’t in it, they would all say that it’s because it’s just a chat for their Dungeons and Dragons party, but really it was because Hanschen and Moritz didn’t get along. And because Hanschen thought D&D was for losers (and Ernst). The chat hadn’t been especially active that evening since both Melchior and Ernst were going to the same party, and the most recent messages were a brief interaction between Otto and Moritz from just a half hour earlier:

 **veni vidi vegeta** [Otto]: _don’t die ernst._  
**georg looks like chicken little** [Moritz]: _what about melchior…_  
**veni vidi vegeta** : _die melchior_  
**georg looks like chicken little** : _well. F_

Ernst let out a little laugh at his friends, then sent the selfie along with a little message of reassurance, punctuated with as many variations of heart emojis as he could find.

 **the power of god and anime** : _i havent died yet!!!!_  
**the power of god and anime** : _i havent seen melchior yet though. we just got here_  
**moritz looks like eraserhead guy** [Georg]: _ernst you look like you’re about to be kidnapped in that pic_  
**veni vidi vegeta** : _ernst, hanschen is coming. oh my god he’s at a loud party. he can’t hear us. oh my god_

Now he finally actually took a look at the picture he sent. Sure, it was a little blurry, and Hanschen did look like he was looming, and the lighting was a tad ominously dim, but he didn’t think it was that bad. He started to defend his photography skills, but Hanschen suddenly gave his shoulder a little squeeze and he looked up to see Max von Trenk approaching from the hall. He shoved his phone in his pocket.

“Hanschen! And… Ernst Robel?” 

_Is he not sure if that’s my name, or is he just surprised that I’m here?_

Either was entirely possible. Max was in theatre just like Ernst and Hanschen, but Ernst’s participation in class was minimal, and his involvement in school plays was almost entirely assorted backstage jobs such as props or lights. Hanschen, however, was always front and center, with Max typically taking on secondary roles. Everyone knew that Hanschen could have been the student body president if he had wanted to, but he didn’t, so Max managed that little victory at least. 

“Max.” Hanschen greeted him in a fairly neutral tone, but that’s just how he was with everyone who wasn’t Ernst. Max held out a hand and Hanschen removed his arm from around Ernst to take it, being unwillingly pulled into one of those not-quite-handshakes and not-quite-hugs that straight guys always do in greeting. Ernst laughed at the sight, but quickly covered his mouth to hide it when Hanschen looked in his direction. When he was freed from Max’s grip, he leaned back against the wall once again and nodded his head towards Ernst. 

“Ernst has never been to a party before, so I brought him tonight for him to see what it’s like.”

“Oh?” Max looked at Hanschen for a long time, then to Ernst with raised eyebrows, evidently surprised that the two of them had come together. 

It wasn’t exactly common knowledge that he and Hanschen were dating considering they didn’t exactly act like a couple at school; but with no teachers and no parents around, there was nothing stopping them from casually addressing their relationship status as if everyone should already know about it.

“Well…” Max went on, not venturing to ask any questions about their relationship, instead turning the subject to himself. “What do you think of the party, then?”

_It’s really loud, something smells like a skunk died, and I had to lie to Mama to come here. Your house is really nice, though._

“It’s pretty fun,” was what Ernst actually settled on saying, barely loud enough to be heard over the music. 

Max nodded in that way people do when they don’t really hear what was said, but they’re not planning on asking for it to be repeated. He looked back to Hanschen and started saying something about the play they had just done in the last semester, but Ernst stopped paying attention, instead staring into space and thinking about the awkward impression he must have left on Max, who he had already only spoken to in very brief and forced small talk at school. 

Something something the themes of _The Glass Menagerie_. The whole conversation was going over Ernst’s head. He pulled out his phone.

 **georg looks like chicken little** : _this box of mac and cheese says it serves 6… should i make it all and try to eat it by myself instead of doing my homework_  
**veni vidi vegeta** : _do your homework and reward yourself after by going hog on some macaroni. just dont do anything fucked up to it like georg_  
**moritz looks like eraserhead guy** : _putting ice in macaroni isn’t weird :/ it cools it down_  
**veni vidi vegeta** : _just don’t cook it as long you animal_  
**the power of god and anime** : _hey guys :)_  
**the power of god and anime** : _moritz do your homework but also don’t make yourself sick… that’s so much mac and cheese…_  
**georg looks like chicken little** : _i think i can do it if i really try_  
**georg looks like chicken little** : _the mac n cheese, not the homework_  
**veni vidi vegeta** : _ernst aren’t you still at that party.. why are you here_  
**the power of god and anime** : _hanschen is talking to max about the glass menagerie. i don’t know what any of it means. im also thirsty but i don’t know where the kitchen is_  
**moritz looks like eraserhead guy** : _ask_  
**the power of god and anime** : _:(... i don’t want to interrupt_  
**veni vidi vegeta** : _ask anyway_

Ernst pocketed his phone, looking up to Max.

“Um. Where’s your kitchen?”

Max was still talking to Hanschen. He didn’t hear him. Ernst only had the courage to ask the completely inoffensive question once. 

He stood there for a minute longer without saying anything, hoping to telepathically reach Hanschen with his question to no avail. Not wanting to interrupt their discussion, he decided to just walk away, figuring he’d find the kitchen eventually if he just wandered around for long enough. 

Awkwardly shimmying through the crowd of students toward the hall, squeaking out an 'excuse me' or 'sorry' each time he passed anyone, Ernst kept his head down to avoid accidentally making eye contact with anybody. Of course, this resulted in him walking directly into someone’s back.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” He exclaimed, looking up with wide eyes to see… _Melchior! Oh, thank goodness it’s not a stranger!_ “Melchior!”

Melchior just looked down at Ernst with an amused grin, not at all annoyed by the fact that he just ran into him and practically shouted in his face. “Hey, Ernst. Aren’t you here with Hanschen? Where’s he?” 

Ernst stammered briefly, still recovering from the wave of anxiety he experienced the moment before. He lowered his voice, suddenly realizing that the music wasn’t as loud in the hall. “He’s talking to Max. I’m just looking for the kitchen, but I… don’t really know where I’m going. Where’s Wendla?”

“Talking to Anna. I was just getting a drink; come with me.” He didn’t wait for Ernst to respond, instead turning and walking back through the crowd with ease. Ernst followed. 

He turned the corner into the kitchen, and Ernst noticed that it was surprisingly empty. He assumed the whole house would be packed wall to wall with students, but it seemed that the bulk of the crowd was either in the living room or out in the backyard, with only a handful of people standing around the kitchen and talking.

Ernst looked away from the other few kids as soon as they looked in his direction, just in time to see Melchior standing in front of the fridge, swinging it open and leaning against the door. 

“Um. Are we allowed to take stuff out of his fridge?” _Is that legal?_ Melchior shrugged. Ernst had just been planning on getting a glass of water, but Melchior was always the rebel. 

“Probably not. There’s a cooler with beer outside, but you don’t drink, right?” Ernst nodded even though Melchior wasn’t looking, and he heard the sound of Melchior shifting things around in the fridge. “...There’s pudding cups in here. Do you want one?”

“No, I don’t think…” his meek voice trailed off, and he watched as Melchior pulled out two pudding cups and set them on the counter to his left.

Finally, Melchior stepped back and closed the fridge, turning around with a Capri Sun in hand, which he held out to Ernst. 

Ernst took it and looked at it. Grape. He would have preferred strawberry kiwi, but beggars can’t be choosers, and every second that Melchior spent rifling through the fridge put Ernst one second closer to a nervous breakdown in fear that Max would walk in and call the police on them for stealing from his family. 

“Thank you,” he said softly, the tip of his tongue poking out through his teeth as he struggled to pierce the pouch with the straw. Melchior snickered and started to reach out to take it and free him from this miserable task, but stopped suddenly. He clapped a hand on Ernst’s shoulder and nodded to turn his attention back in the other direction. Ernst turned around, his face lighting up as he saw Hanschen standing in the doorway from the other room, then falling immediately when he noticed Hanschen’s concern.

“Why did you walk off like that?” He came over, took the Capri Sun from Ernst’s hands, and put in the straw in one try before handing it back. Ernst, as always, was very impressed by him. 

Ernst glanced back over his shoulder to Melchior, then looked back to Hanschen with an apologetic smile. “I wanted something to drink, but you were talking to Max and I didn’t want to interrupt…”

“...And I’m just here for these,” Melchior added and held up the two pudding cups, even though Hanschen had barely acknowledged his presence. With that, he opened various drawers until he found the silverware and took two spoons, then gave a little wave before heading outside presumably to the cooler he had mentioned. “Have fun, kids. Leave room for Jesus, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He threw up a peace sign over his shoulder.

Hanschen rolled his eyes and Ernst brought his free hand up to his mouth to laugh quietly behind it, and was interrupted after a moment by Hanschen looking back to him and gently taking his hand in one of his, giving him a look not unlike a concerned mother hen.

“I’m fine, Hanschen,” he assured him before he could ask the question, “I just… you know. I don’t really think I’m good at stuff like this, but I don’t want to get in the way of you talking to anyone, or...”

“You’re thinking too much again, darling.” Ernst’s face flushed at the pet name, and the action that accompanied it—Hanschen lifted his hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against his knuckles. For a moment, Ernst forgot that he was at a high school party and wasn’t a lovelorn Regency era heroine whose lover rode across the English countryside on horseback to confess his feelings in a dramatic fashion. ...He and Moritz had watched _Pride and Prejudice_ a month ago, so the fantasy was still fresh in his mind. 

Hanschen had apparently noticed his suddenly distracted expression and chuckled, pulling Ernst from his thoughts. “I couldn’t care less if I didn’t speak to anyone here all evening. I brought you because I wanted to spend time with _you._ If you aren’t enjoying yourself, Ernst, we could go elsewhere.”

“No! I—I mean no, I want to stay.” _Do I?_ “It’s like, a real high schooler thing, right? I want to be able to say I went to at least one party and didn’t leave early because I felt like I didn’t belong there.” Ernst paused and took a sip of his Capri Sun. “Not to mention, I don’t want to look like I just came here, took juice out of Max’s fridge, and left… Where is Max, anyways?”

Hanschen shrugged in response to the question. “I don’t know, I just came to find you. He most likely isn’t thinking about the precise number of Capri Suns in his fridge, though.” He bent forward to plant a kiss on Ernst’s cheek. “Anyways, we can stay if that’s what you want, but don’t be afraid to say something if you want to leave.”

Ernst smiled and nodded, but knew that he was absolutely not going to say anything if he wanted to leave. In any case, Hanschen’s gentle reassurances did make him feel more confident in his ability to stick it out—for the next minute or so, anyways. 

“Do you want to go somewhere more quiet?” Hanschen cocked his head to the side questioningly. “I’ve known Max since we were in middle school; I know where his room is.”

Ernst nodded before it occurred to him that the kitchen was pretty quiet compared to the living room or the backyard, and that what Hanschen had meant to say was probably somewhere more _private._

_That’s definitely not legal, right? In Max’s house? In his room? Oh my God._

Hanschen, who had either noticed Ernst’s sudden apprehension while leading him out of the kitchen and down the hall to the stairs, or had recently developed a telepathic link to his mind, slowed his pace to allow Ernst to catch up to his side. He put his arm around his shoulder and continued walking. “Relax, Ernst. I’m only trying to find somewhere that you can sit and calm down for a minute. That kind of thing doesn’t really happen at parties, anyways. Usually.”

“Usually?” Ernst squeaked, and Hanschen shrugged.

“It could happen. If you wanted it to.” He didn’t bother concealing his grin, but Ernst could tell that he was just teasing him even without seeing it. It didn’t stop him from getting flustered, though. 

“Ha…haha. Maybe ask me again once I’ve finished my Capri Sun.” Ernst held up his juice as if he were doing a toast, and Hanschen just shot him an amused glance before pulling him in a little closer. 

As they reached the end of the upstairs hall, Ernst stepped ahead a little, his momentary burst of confidence overriding his desire to stop Hanschen and ask if it was really okay to use Max’s bedroom—even just for completely innocent sitting and talking. He turned the knob and leaned against the door to push it open, then immediately almost fell flat on his face when presented with the scene in front of him. 

It was Max von Trenk sitting at the foot of his bed, and—Ernst couldn’t see the girl’s face, but he certainly saw just about everything else. 

“Oh, God!” Ernst gasped loud enough to choke on nothing and stumbled back against Hanschen, his hand raised up to cover his face. “I’m sorry, we—sorry! Oh my God!”

Hanschen said nothing, instead opting to lean in and pull the door closed while Ernst continued blurting out apologies and Max started shouting obscenities from his bed.

They stood in the hall silently for several seconds; Ernst still leaning against Hanschen with a hand firmly pressed over his mouth as he tried to process what he had just witnessed. When he finally spoke again, it took him a few words to rein his voice back to a whisper from his previous shocked yelping, “Hanschen, you know how I said that I wanted to stay?”

“I do.” Hanschen was already digging his keys from his pocket and walking with Ernst back down the stairs with his hand pressed against his back. He looked like he would have been laughing if anyone other than his pitiful and horrified Catholic boyfriend was beside him at the present moment.

“I think I want to go home, actually.” 

“Hey! Where are you guys going?” It was Melchior’s voice that called out over the music right as they had gotten to the door, and Ernst felt Hanschen’s hand tense against his back as he cringed.

“Ernst doesn’t feel well, so we’re leaving,” Hanschen explained as Melchior slid through the crowd to the front door, Wendla following behind with her hand in his.

The two of them looked to Ernst, who looked back at them as if the grim spectre of death had just passed his field of vision. “Max is upstairs having sex,” he stated, his voice trembling. 

Both Melchior’s and Wendla’s eyebrows shot up in perfect synchronization, and Hanschen cleared his throat quietly. “They weren’t having sex, they were just…” He trailed off when Melchior made a brief tugging motion with his hand, giving Hanschen a questioning look to ask for confirmation. “Exactly.”

Ernst and Wendla made eye contact while their boyfriends played the worst game of charades either of them had ever been party to, and Wendla gave him a sheepish smile before tapping Melchior on the shoulder sweetly. 

“Melchi, I think we should let them get going.” _Wendla, you are an angel._ She tugged on his hand gently, then looked back to Ernst and Hanschen. “Sorry that you guys didn’t have a good time tonight, but it’s good to see you both again! Bye!” She gave a little wave with her free hand while pulling Melchior away before he could think of any other lewd hand gestures to horrify Ernst further with. 

“See you later, guys,” Ernst called out halfheartedly, though they definitely didn’t hear him. Hanschen said nothing, and just turned back around to open the door.

When they got back to Hanschen’s car, they both sat there quietly for a few seconds. Hanschen sighed.

“I’m sorry, darling. I thought that you might unexpectedly have fun tonight. I’ll make it up to you; we’ll go to dinner, or whatever you’d like.”

Ernst’s head whipped around to look from the window to Hanschen, the offer seeming to wipe away his seemingly inconsolably miserable state from only a moment before. “Will you come with me to D&D next Saturday? At Melchior’s house?” 

Hanschen went silent, an uncertain grimace tugging at his features.

“Please, Hanschen? It’ll be more fun than you think, and there won’t be anyone having sex there.”

“No kidding.” He let out a sigh then looked to Ernst, who was staring back at him with big, pleading eyes. “...Alright, I’ll go.”

Ernst took advantage of the fact that Hanschen had not yet started the car to practically throw himself onto him and wrap him in a tight hug. “Thank you, Hanschen! And… thank you for bringing me tonight, even if it didn’t really work out.” 

Hanschen smiled, looking at him silently for a few seconds. “I love you.”

Ernst kissed Hanschen’s cheek before slipping back into the passenger seat with a little satisfied smile on his lips. “I love you, too!”

Sure, his first party ever was kind of a bust and he could never look at Max von Trenk ever again, but Ernst didn’t really care about that. What really mattered was that his boyfriend loved him, and specifically that his boyfriend loved him enough to agree to come watch him and his friends roll dice and talk in accents for five hours next weekend.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first ever fic! thank you dany for dealing with me lamenting about my struggles every 5 minutes that i spent writing, you absolute legend.


End file.
